


between one note and the next

by QuietLittleVoices



Series: The Other Side [11]
Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The X Files, Angst, Case Fic, Hostage Situations, M/M, the closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 12:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16096112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietLittleVoices/pseuds/QuietLittleVoices
Summary: Since the Christmas incident, Sammy had instituted a policy of disclosure before they went out on cases. He needed to know what phenomena they were tracking, and why Jack was interested. But he always took Jack at his word, trusted him about the cases. He reached over and touched Sammy’s hand, under the dashboard so that none of the people on the street waiting for them to enter could see.





	between one note and the next

**Author's Note:**

> 1 - idk anything about medicine that's all made up.  
> 2 - there's like .... three or more X Files easter eggs in this one.  
> 3 - it's heavily based off two episodes (eps 1.15 Lazarus and 1.16 Young At Heart) but it's still like, comprehensible if you haven't watched them. I just took some characters from those episodes but everything's tweaked.

“What are we doing here?” Sammy asked as they pulled up to the storefront where a handful of police could be seen walking in and around the premises.

“Robbing a jewelry store is a federal crime,” Jack reminded him.

Sammy looked at him, clearly unconvinced. “That’s why there’s a whole division for robbery.  _ And _ violent crime, if that’s happened.”

Jack turned the car off but didn’t move right away, and Sammy just watched him from the passenger seat. The weight of Sammy’s  _ not _ pressuring him felt heavier than if Sammy was insistent about knowing why. “I got a call,” he said. “From someone I used to work with in Violent Crimes. He told me that the MO for this robbery was the same as the first case I worked on with them, and that there was something I needed to see, but he didn’t tell me what.”

“Okay,” Sammy said easily. “Let’s find out.”

Jack looked over and smiled at him. Since the Christmas incident, Sammy had instituted a policy of disclosure before they went out on cases. He needed to know what phenomena they were tracking, and why Jack was interested. But he always took Jack at his word, trusted him about the cases. He reached over and touched Sammy’s hand, under the dashboard so that none of the people on the street waiting for them to enter could see. “Thanks.”

Sammy followed Jack out of the car and into the shop. Jack walked up to a plainclothesman examining a broken display case and went to give him a pat on the back, but pulled away before his hand made contact. “Agent Phil Green,” he said, injecting his voice with all the faux camaraderie he felt was required. “Good to see you out and about.”

Phil turned around and laughed. “They haven’t shackled me with desk duty yet, Wright. Nice to see you out of that basement.” Phil looked from Jack to Sammy and raised an eyebrow. “Who might this be?”

Jack gritted his teeth through the way that made his skin crawl. “My partner,” he replied, and he knew that he hadn’t put any special emphasis on the word - he was used to saying it like that, smooth and even like everyone else did - but from the look that Phil shot him, Jack knew that he was thinking about it anyway. Sammy didn’t seem to notice, but Jack knew that he’d have to explain himself later anyway. “Agent Sammy Stevens.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Phil said, reaching out to shake Sammy’s hand. “You know, you can give me a call if you ever need help dealing with Jack’s whims.” Phil pulled back from the handshake and put his hand on Jack’s shoulder, shaking him teasingly and Jack felt his whole body go tense. “I know that he can get a bit - eccentric.”

“Hardly,” Sammy replied, and his tone was light but he was looking at Jack questioningly. “He’s the best agent I’ve ever worked with.” Jack knew the bar was low, but Phil didn’t, so he was still grateful for the compliment and smiled at Sammy when he said it.

“Sure,” Phil agreed offhandedly. “He can just get -”

“Why did you call me here, Green?” Jack interrupted. “I know it wasn’t just that there was a robbery. What did you find?”

Phil looked at Jack, clearly noting the interruption, but didn’t say anything. He pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket and handed it to Jack. “We found this.”

Jack took the bag and smoothed it out so he could see the paper inside. The handwriting was immediately familiar.  _ Jack couldn’t cut the beanstalk _ . “It’s really him,” Jack muttered.

Phil nodded. “It’s probably a copycat, but - they know a lot about the case.”

“What’s going on?” Sammy asked, taking a step over to Jack so that he could see the note. “Who did this?”

“John Barnett,” Jack answered. “We followed him for weeks, and he kept leaving us - leaving  _ me _ these notes.” Jack tapped the note against his closed fist. “He killed seven people before we could stop him. Including one of the agents on the case. He was sentenced to over three hundred years in prison, but he died five years ago.”

Sammy looked like he was about to say something, and then he stopped and looked at Phil for a second before turning back to Jack. “What are you thinking?” he asked, voice low enough to make it clear he was talking to only Jack but not so low that Phil couldn’t hear. 

“I think he’s back,” Jack admitted. “I don’t know how but - this is him.”

Phil scoffed. “There’s no way. It’s probably someone seeking some kind of revenge or just copying it outright.”

Jack pressed his lips together. “Maybe. I’m gonna get this note checked out, though.”

Phil put up his hands like there was something he needed to defend himself from. “You do what you have to,” he said placatingly, and Jack felt himself bristle at the tone.

“We’re going back to headquarters,” Jack muttered instead of continuing, and he turned around and walked out of the store with the note. He barely checked to see if Sammy was following, but Sammy got into the car only a few seconds after him. 

 

“This from a friend of yours?” Agent Henderson murmured, partially distracted as she looked through the lenses of the microscope.

“He’s my golf buddy,” Jack replied flatly. “Can you tell anything?”

Henderson pulled back from the lenses and raised an eyebrow at him. “You only brought this around ten minutes ago. That might be enough time for  _ you _ , Jack, but I’m gonna need a bit longer.” 

She gave him a quick up-and-down look that made Jack want to leave. He wished that Sammy had come with him, but Phil had followed them to the headquarters and pulled him away for research on the case since Jack’s task was a one-man job. Another part of him was glad that Sammy wasn’t there with how Henderson always acted, because it somehow made it worse when this happened in front of Sammy. Which was, admittedly, most of the time. 

“Yeah,” he muttered awkwardly. “Seriously, what do you think?”

Henderson appeared to take the hint and turned back to the note, pulling it out from under the microscope. “First impressions, the ink is fresh, so - written in the last forty-eight hours. Right-handed, used a ballpoint pen - but you knew that,” she added, smiling at him over her shoulder and Jack gritted his teeth and smiled back her tightly. “Also, written by someone sitting down, but that’s just me showing off.”

“Does it match Barnett?” Jack asked, trying to ignore most of what she’d just said.

“Ninety-five percent sure,” she answered. “Little sloppier and heavier, but it’s within normal range.”

Jack looked down at the note and saw what she was pointing at. “Could it have been traced?”

“It’s  _ possible _ , but it’s a damn good forgery if it is,” she said. “As in, could forge the president's signature and get away with it good.”

“Thanks.” Jack took the note from her, careful to put his hand on the opposite side to hers as he did. “I owe you one,” he added awkwardly, because he felt like he was supposed. 

“Promises, promises,” she said in a jokingly sing-song voice to his back, and Jack had to repress a shudder.

 

Sammy immediately wished that he’d gone with Jack to Handwriting because Green was leading him through Violent Crimes, not giving any indication of stopping. They didn’t talk as they walked, and eventually made it to Green’s desk. Sammy pulled up an extra chair. 

“Most of the research for this case was already done,” Green admitted. “When we were first after Barnett, we went at it from every angle.”

“Then why did you want me here?” Sammy asked.

Green logged into his computer and went to a folder. “I wanted to show you what happened. When we finally apprehended Barnett, it wasn’t easy. He took a hostage, and in the stand off he killed both the hostage and one of the agents.”

Sammy waited. “And?” he prompted. “That’s obviously not a good outcome, but - sometimes, in hostage situations, people get hurt. Why are you telling me this?”

“Just - watch the video.” Green pulled it up and hit play.

It was nighttime security camera footage, so the quality was poor but Sammy could make out Barnett - the only person holding a hostage close to his chest - surrounded by five agents. Jack was behind Barnett, face partially towards the camera so Sammy recognized him easily. He looked so young, and Sammy knew that this had happened not long before they’d met. There was no audio on the video, so it seemed that Barnett shot the agent out of nowhere, and then the hostage, and that was when Jack finally dropped his gun and tackled Barnett. Green stopped the video.

“He had a shot the whole time, and he never took it,” Green said. “Jack was obsessed with Barnett’s case, I think he slept in his office. He wanted Barnett alive, so he didn’t take the shot.”

Sammy looked at the paused screen, Jack mid-way through getting cuffs on Barnett. “That’s against regulation.”

“He had a shot,” Green repeated. “I just - want you to know who you’re working with. He sacrificed those two men to get Barnett alive.”

Sammy stood up and pushed the chair back to the wall where he’d taken it from. “I think that’s enough. We’ll be in contact.”

 

Jack walked out of Handwriting and saw Sammy walking towards him, down the hallway. “Did you and Green find anything?” he asked.

Sammy shook his head. “He just wanted to show me the security footage.”

Jack felt himself freeze. “The - was it the night we got him?” he asked reluctantly.

Sammy nodded. “You did the right thing, Jack,” he said softly. “You couldn’t have known.”

Jack pressed his lips together and looked around. There were a few agents walking through the hallway, and Jack wished more than anything that they’d all disappear so that he could pull Sammy into a hug or at least take him into one of the empty offices - just to look him, unguarded. “They both had families,” he said finally, speaking quietly so as to not be overheard. “They had kids, and it’s because of me that they’re dead. If I’d taken the shot when I had it, they’d still be alive.”

“Bullshit,” Sammy said harshly, and Jack looked up to meet his eyes. “It’s only John Barnett’s fault that they’re dead, he killed them. You were just doing your job and you couldn’t have known, Jack. You couldn’t have.”

Jack nodded and looked away. “Was there anything else Green told you? About the case or - or anything?”

“No,” Sammy said quickly, shaking his head, and Jack felt a pang. He knew that Sammy wasn’t being wholly truthful, but he didn’t want to know what Green might have said. 

 

Jack managed to get ahold of Barnett’s last will and testament, and found that all of his limited possessions had been left to his cellmate. He first called to make sure that Joe Crandall had never left the prison for a day trip or anything related, and when it was confirmed that he had been there during the robbery they went to speak to him.

“Can you think of anyone he was close to that might do something like this?” Jack asked.

Crandall shook his head. “He never mentioned a family or friends.”

“What about people around here?” Sammy followed up.

“Aside from me?” Crandall replied incredulously. “He didn’t go out of his way to make friends. The only people he talked to were me and Doctor Ridley. Joseph Ridley.”

Sammy was about to ask about that when Crandall spoke up again.

“He’s alive, isn’t he?” Crandall asked. “John’s alive?”

Jack looked over and met Sammy’s eye, just as he noticed Phil walking down the hall towards them.

Phil barely acknowledge them, looking straight to Crandall. “You must be Joe Crandall. I’ve been looking to talk to you.”

Before Crandall could reply, Jack butted in. “We’ve already gotten all the info we need,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.” He went to cross his arms and then thought better of it, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well, you don’t know what  _ I _ want,” Phil said, voice full of false camaraderie. “Maybe we’re looking at different things.”

“Doubtful,” Jack muttered.

Sammy gave them both a hard look. “Let’s take this elsewhere,” he said, and it was clearly meant to be anything but a suggestion. He turned to Crandall. “Thanks for your help, Joe. We’ll get in touch if we need more.” He didn’t wait to start ushering the other two men down the hallway and out of the prison. As they walked, he recounted to Phil what little they had learned. “It seems like there’s just - not much to it. Barnett’s dead, and someone is doing this for  _ some _ reason, but we’re not closer to finding out why.”

Phil smiled at Sammy and Jack wanted to step in between them. “That’s really helpful, actually,” he said. “Maybe we could -”

“We’re going to look into Ridley from our end,” Jack interrupted. “I think I’ve heard his name before, we probably have a file on him already.”

“That’s if you can  _ find _ it in your office,” Phil replied derisively. 

Jack bristled but could see Sammy watching him from the corner of his eye. “I don’t think we’ll have any problems,” Sammy said slowly. “We’ll let you know.”

 

Jack found the files as soon as they were back at the office and used them to cross-reference his work computers filing system and pulled up a video. 

“So you weren’t lying about Doctor Ridley?” Sammy observed. “It wasn’t just about getting us away from Agent Green?”

Jack felt himself flush and he kept his focus on the computer. “No, not - not  _ just _ that,” he muttered. “I remembered a case file where Ridley had been working on patients who’d had near death experiences.”

Sammy made a thoughtful noise and Jack knew that this was another thing they’d have to discuss.

The video he pulled up showed Ridley with elderly patients, discussing the process that was understood to be ‘dying of natural causes’. He discussed how, if he could cure those causes, then he could cure death.

“Is this guy serious?” Sammy asked.

Jack shrugged. “The case didn’t turn up anything. Ridley lost his license and we couldn’t find any evidence that he’d continued practicing. The phenomena wasn’t strange enough for us to keep the case, and he was investigated for a while to see if his treatments caused the death of some of his patients, but it was inconclusive.”

“But he kept practicing at the prison,” Sammy pointed out, and Jack nodded.

“Seems like it. But he hasn’t been heard from since Barnett died, there’s a note in the system here.” Jack pulled up the folder note so it showed on the screen, just a typed PDF. It indicated that the last contact had been just over four years prior. 

“So we have two dead men who just seem to keep coming up,” Sammy said. 

Jack smiled at him. “Sure looks that way.”

 

Sammy diverted Jack from heading into his office and pulled him to the couch as soon as they got into their apartment. “Let’s have a little chat,” he said, and Jack felt himself get a bit defensive.

“Is something wrong?” Jack asked uncomfortably, settling into the couch next to Sammy.

Sammy shook his head and reached out to cover one of Jacks’ hands with his own. “Before I ask - I won’t be upset with you or anything over the answer.” He curled his hand around Jacks’. “What’s your actual deal with Agent Green? Because I got the impression he bothered you a bit more than just an old colleague.”

Jack felt his hand reflexively tighten around Sammy’s. “That’s what I was afraid you were gonna ask,” Jack muttered. “We, uh, dated, but we broke up shortly before I met you. Well, he broke up with me.”

“He was the guy I was supposed to be your rebound from?” Sammy replied, almost laughing. “Lily thought that  _ I _ would help you get over him?”

Jack pulled his eyebrows together. “You did, though. You’re way better than he was. I know I can be  _ difficult _ , I can get kind of… isolated, and I get passionate about weird things at the wrong times, but - you always took that in stride. He didn’t.”

“There’s nothing difficult about loving you,” Sammy said softly, and Jack couldn’t meet his eyes directly.

_ I’m gonna marry him, _ Jack realized, and then immediately he pushed the thought from his head. They’d only been dating for three years, they weren’t anywhere near ready for that. He leaned forward and kissed Sammy. “I love you so much,” he said instead, and he felt Sammy smile. 

There was a knock at the door and they jumped apart, immediately on opposite sides of the sofa. They looked at each other sheepishly, both red in the face, and another insistent knock rang through the apartment. Jack stood and straightened out his shirt, running a hand through his hair. He looked at Sammy who was rearranging his hair into a short ponytail and then went to the door. 

Doctor Joseph Ridley appeared to be on the other side, shuffling awkwardly and looking around the hallway frantically. Jack looked back at Sammy and gave him a look, trying to communication that things were about to get weird, before he opened the door.

Ridley rushed in and shut the door. He introduced himself quickly, confirming Jack’s instinct.

Jack managed to get him seated in the armchair. As soon as they were settled, he noticed that Ridley’s eyes were grey and glazed over. “Where have you been for the last four years?” he asked.

“Mexico and Central America,” Ridley answered. “I continued my work in Belize for the last two years.”

Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What about Barnett?” 

“He’s my last living patient. He’s the only one who survived the experiments,” Ridley replied, opening his hands and placing them on his thighs, palms up as if to show he wasn’t hiding anything from them.

“And what about you?” Sammy asked. “How are we even supposed to believe you  _ are _ Joseph Ridley?”

Ridley shrugged. “I guess that’s your choice. But I don’t have much time. I have less than a month to live, by my estimate. I’m only keeping myself alive using Lysoprine. I found that while it’s primarily used to treat kidney failure, the side effects worked in combination with another experimental drug I was using in Belize to start to heal various ailments related to old age. I no longer have access to that medication - it was synthesized in small doses for the trials.”

“So Barnett is - he’s alive,” Jack said. “But he’s dying as well?”

“I don’t rightly know,” Ridley admitted. “I personally detest the man. We haven’t had contact in the last six months, when my condition has been deteriorating. I can only assume he’s in the same state.”

Jack took a deep breath and looked across the couch at Sammy, who was looking back at him questioningly. “Do you have any way of getting in contact with him?” he asked, turning back to Ridley.

Ridley shook his head. “If I knew that, I would have stopped him myself.”

 

In the morning, Jack told Sammy that he was going to get them breakfast, kissed him goodbye, and then went to meet with Lily. 

“I couldn’t find much about either Ridley or Barnett,” she admitted as soon as he was in her car.

“Why am I here, then?” Jack wondered out loud, reaching into his pocket to pull out a sunflower seed which he popped between his teeth.

“What I  _ could _ find,” Lily continued pointedly, “was that Barnett has been bargaining with the government. He stole Ridley’s research, and they want it from him.”

Jack drummed his fingers against his knee. “What does he want from them?”

“The usual. Money, immunity.” Lily pulled a flash drive out of her pocket and handed it to him. “This has some of the communication that I could access.”

“Are they going to give it to him?” Jack asked.

Lily looked at him evenly. “He holds all the power. But it’s too soon to say.”

Jack nodded. He shook the flashdrive. “Thanks for this.” He tucked it into his pocket and got out of the car.

 

The apartment was quiet when Jack walked in with a bag of food in one hand and two coffees on a tray in the other. He called Sammy’s name and got no response, so he set the food down on the kitchen table and walked to their bedroom. “Sammy?” he called again, and again there was no response. Sammy wasn’t in the bedroom, or the bathroom, or Jack’s office. 

Finally, Jack noticed it, resting on top of a coffee table book of ‘mysterious locations’ that Sammy had bought for him when they’d moved in together. It was a photograph, in full cover, taken through their living room window from across the street. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, blood rushing in his ears as he stood there staring at the photo. It was from last night, the two of them on the couch together, hands tangled between them. Their faces were obscured because - because Jack was leaned sideways, body twisted, his hand in Sammy’s hair, their faces pressed together. There was no ambiguity about the situation.

He flipped it over, because the acidic feeling in his stomach was going to eat through his gut if he kept looking at the picture.

On the back, Barnett had left him a note.  _ Jack fell down and broke his crown _ .

 

Jack found Phil at his desk and pulled him up unceremoniously. “We need to talk,” he muttered, and Phil, to his credit, followed Jack out into the hallway. 

Jack looked around before taking the picture out of his pocket. “I need you to help me,” he said desperately. “Sammy’s gone, and I - I can’t show this to anyone, but there’s no other proof.”

Phil took the picture, raising an eyebrow as he looked it over. “No wonder he’s so willing to go along with you.”

“This isn’t the time for that,” Jack said, trying to push down his anger.  “Can you help me?”

Phil flipped it over, looking at the note. “You’re sure this is the guy we’re after?”

Jack gritted his teeth. “Frankly, I don’t give a shit who sent this. If it was Barnett or Ridley or anyone else. I just want to find Sammy.”

“I can help,” Phil agreed with a nod, and Jack let out a relieved breath. “I could ruin your career with this, you know that, right?”

“Of course I know that,” Jack said. “I’m trusting you to be discreet. To do the right thing, here.”

“The right thing would involve not destroying evidence,” Phil reminded him, flipping up the photo so Jack was confronted with it again. He felt something churning in his gut, knowing they’d been watched like that. “You had such a promising career, Jack.”

“Then don’t ruin it now,” Jack argued. “Just - look. I don’t care what you do. Turn it in and you’re implicating yourself, but I won’t say anything. Just help me.”

Phil sighed and then nodded to himself. “I’ll see what I can do. Wait for my call.”

Jack didn’t thank him. He wasn’t sure if Phil would deserve it yet. 

An hour later, Phil called him to let him know that an inquiry was opened, and that he’d taken the picture to one of the darkrooms and overexposed it. He hadn’t shown anyone else. 

Jack sat in Sammy’s desk, looking across the room at his own, and listened to his old case notes about Barnett. When he’d first started, he’d found something romantic about audio notes. He’d watched Twin Peaks in high school and there’d always been a piece of him that had thought it was a fun quirk. Now, listening to them, he’d wished he’d just written field notes like most people. His train of thoughts was idiosyncratic and hard to follow, dramatic in all the wrong places. He knew that if Sammy were here, he’d have found something faster - some piece of evidence or clue that would help them unravel it. Sammy was more organized than him, and quicker to see through to patterns in behaviour. 

The phone on his desk rang, interrupting him, and he hit pause on the recorder and jumped over to pick up the phone. 

 

Jack paced in front of the map with nervous energy, waiting for the agents on the taskforce to. He knew that while his ideas and reputation weren’t as well regarded, most of the agents liked him well enough. A few of them had the decency to look concerned. 

“We just got word that a pharmacy was broken into, here,” Jack said, putting an X on the map with a marker. “Lysoprine was stolen, which is a medication that the man we believe has - is responsible is taking.” He started to pass out the papers he’d brought with him. “These are a few composites of what we think he may look like now. It’s been several years since this man has been seen, so memorize all of them. We believe that they are within a five mile radius of the pharmacy, so you’ll be canvassing the area.” Jack stepped back to the map and took a deep breath. “If you aren’t already aware, this is - extremely important to me.” He nodded awkwardly, trying not to focus on how he sounded to himself. 

“What are you waiting for?” Phil prompted, and the agents all stood up. “Let’s get going.” They filed out and Jack went to follow them but Phil stopped him. “You’re staying here.”

“And doing what?” Jack protested. “I know what he looks like best, I should be out there.”

Phil shook his head. “You’re too emotional.”

“Of course I’m fucking emotional,” Jack hissed, lowering his voice even though they were mostly alone in the room. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It absolutely does,” Phil stated. “You’re waiting here - what if Barnett calls? Hell, what if Sammy calls?”

Jack set his jaw. He knew that Phil was right - if Barnett wanted to use Sammy as a bargaining chip, then he’d call. 

 

Barnett did call them, just like Phil had expected. Jack was handed the phone while an agent sat next to him, trying to track the call.

“Agent Wright,” Barnett said, and Jack could hear the horrible smile in his voice. “I need you to listen to me  _ very _ carefully.”

“Not until I know that Agent Stevens is alright,” Jack countered, and the agent next to him gave him a sharp look. Hostage negotiation 101: don’t do anything to set them on the defensive. Jack couldn’t bring himself to care.

Barnett didn’t say anything, but Jack could hear shuffling on the line and then - “Jack?”

Jack felt something like a balloon in his chest pop and he slumped back in his chair. “Sammy,” he said quietly. “Are you alright?”

“That’s enough for now, I think,” Barnett said, returning to the line, and Jack felt himself go tense again. He could hear Sammy in the background, but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“If you lay  _ one _ hand on him -” Jack started.

“I wouldn’t concern yourself with that just yet, Wright,” Barnett tutted. “I’m going to need something from you if you expect me to promise you anything about Stevens.”

“What do you want?” Jack asked tearsly. 

“Somewhere safe to go where I know I won’t be persecuted,” Barnett started, “and a million dollars to get that up and going. Have it ready by this time tomorrow, I’ll tell you where to bring it then.”

Barnett hung up and Jack looked to the agent next to him who nodded. “We got it. It’s a two-oh-two number.”

Green clapped his hands together and stood up. “Great. Let’s get the address.”

Jack shook his head, looking over at the display. “It’s Sammy’s cell number,” he said bitterly. “It’s useless.”

He knew it looked bad, or suspicious, or any number of other things, but he stormed out. Jack couldn’t stand to be in that room anymore, but he couldn’t go home, so he returned to his office.

 

Jack got a fifth pencil stuck up in the ceiling above Sammy’s desk and was about to stand up and remove them when Phil walked in without knocking.

Phil gave him a condescendingly incredulous look when he noticed that Jack wasn’t seated at his own desk, but Jack ignored him. “What is it?” he asked.

“Barnett’s been spotted,” Phil answered. “They haven’t seen Stevens but there’s no reason to think he isn’t there.”

Phil drove them to the street because Jack could feel his hands shaking.  _ What if he isn’t there? _ he kept thinking. Or worse -  _ what if he’s there but Jack was too late? _ He knew he shouldn’t entertain the thoughts, but he couldn’t help it.

“What’s stopping us from going in?” Jack asked, as he and Phil waited in the car. It wasn’t a question.

“Regulation,” Phil answered anyway. “We  _ think _ we saw him - now, we can be as sure as we want that it is him, but there’s no reason for us to descend on the house, full-force. We haven’t seen Stevens.”

Jack pulled a sunflower seed out of his pocket and cracked it open between his teeth. “Look how far regulation got me, Green.”

“You still have -” Phil was interrupted by a shot ringing out, and Jack was already jumping out of the car before a second one was heard.

The officers who’d been closer were already in the house when Jack and Phil got in, and Jack barely registered that Barnett was still there - laying on the ground, blood around his stomach - when he saw Sammy sprawled out and rushed over to him.

“I’m okay,” Sammy said quickly, reaching up to put his hand on Jack’s shoulder and Jack realized that his hands were tied.

“Are you sure?” Jack asked, his hands fluttering useless over Sammy’s body. He wanted to touch, to actually assess Sammy, but he knew that if he did then he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together. He fumbled in his pockets to find his pocket knife and flipped out the scissors to cut Sammy’s ties. 

Sammy rubbed his wrists and Jack wanted to cover his hands with his own but the room was crowded with agents. “Thanks,” Sammy said quietly.

Jack touched his fingers to the inside of Sammy’s wrist and then pulled them away quickly, looking around. No one was paying attention to them. He could hear sirens in the distance and soon the agents were spurred back into action, going out to flag down the ambulance that someone had called for Barnett. A second arrived for Sammy, and Jack stood close by while they assessed him. He only noticed Phil watching them, but it didn’t stop the crawling feeling under his skin.

 

As soon as they were through the door of their apartment, Jack wrapped his arms around Sammy. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said, voice muffled in Sammy’s shoulder. 

Sammy rubbed his hands down Jack’s back. “Me too,” he said lightly.

Jack pulled back a little, meaning to step away but was stopped by Sammy’s grip. “Sorry, I’m acting like I’ve been through something. Is there - how can I help?”

Sammy lead them over to the couch wordlessly and pulled Jack down with him, resting his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Just stay here, okay? We’ve both had a long day.”

Jack could almost laugh at how Sammy was taking care of him after he’d been through something objectively worse. “I love you,” he said.

Sammy hummed and leaned up to kiss him and Jack felt himself pull away against his will. “What’s wrong?” Sammy asked.

“When you were - taken,” Jack started, “he left a note. On a picture. Of us, in here. And I can’t help but feel…” he trailed off, waving his free hand vaguely. “I had to show it to Phil, and he ruined the picture but kept the note. No one else knows but I had to show him. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Sammy said quickly. “You did what you had to do, it’s fine. If you’d had to show everyone - we could have dealt with that.”

Jack leaned into Sammy. “I’m not ready for that - for everyone to know. I wish I was.”

“I’m not either,” Sammy agreed. “Just - if it were necessary, I would. To save you.” 

Jack sighed and leaned their foreheads together. “Don’t scare me like that again, though, okay?”

“No promises,” Sammy said with a laugh, and Jack was going to reply but Sammy kissed him again. And this time he didn’t pull away.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed it !!!! please comment if you did :) I enjoyed writing it and am surprisingly proud of it.


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